Tuesday, April 12, 2016

Reincarnation...(National Poetry Month #12)

When I come back I want to be a cat.
Graceful. Strong. Fierce.
Stalking a jungle.
Or sleeping on a couch.
Big or small. Lion, leopard, house.
I want to be a cat.

He smiled at her.
I cannot imagine what I would be.
Being here with you. This is all.
I believe I have reached the top.
This is my highest form.
My luckiest moment.

She smiled at him.
And then he saw,
She already was the cat. 
The gleam in her huntress eye.
The flash of fang at her lip.
And still he was content to be the mouse.

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